


Your Turn

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: After several letters and the idea raised of a betrothal, Fili and Sigrid finally meet for the first time since before the battle. Sigrid has questions and Fili has quiet hopes. It’s a good match.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Yours In Friendship](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8324482)

 

 

 

They met in Dale’s great hall, well repaired and not too crowded with people. The small group that clustered with sharp focus on the Dwarves were likely Dale’s council. King Bard was sat on a simple chair, simple compared to the throne of Erebor, and wore a jewelled silver circlet; the only sign of his royal position. His expression was grave, as it always seemed before. Sat beside him was Sigrid, her dress patched and her eyes bright. There was a cape around her shoulders, sewn together out of several different materials, and her fingers twitched slightly in her lap. It wasn't likely she was used to so much attention.

 

Those hands had written to Fili, had folded paper and placed a dragon claw within for him. He had caused her smiles. He smiled at the thought and received a smile in return.

 

Tilda, her young sister, was watching with wide excited eyes, and Sigrid talked quietly to her. Bain their brother stood at their father’s other side, watching everything carefully, a short blade on his belt.

 

Dis and Balin headed the party and came to a neat halt before Dale’s royal family.

 

“Your Highness,” Balin bowed. “May I present, Princess Dis of Erebor and the Blue Mountains, Crown Prince Fili who holds the throne of Erebor and Crown Prince Kili and his betrothed Captain Tauriel of Erebor.”

 

She was no longer of the Greenwood and did not flinch at Balin’s words. She did smile though when Tilda waved at her, clearly wanting to escape her sister’s grip for a hug. Sigrid smiled and dipped her head at Tauriel too, her pleasure clear.

 

Dis, Fili, Kili and Tauriel all bowed, which caused a slight murmur. Fili kept his eyes ahead and knew that the others would too.

 

King Bard nodded and spoke for himself. “You’re all welcome. I’m now to be King Bard of Dale, my children, Princess Sigrid, Prince Bain and Princess Tilda.”

 

Tilda wriggled with some delight at her title and Sigrid whispered more to her. Tilda quickly dropped into a neat curtsey and Sigrid stood to do the same, her legs steady. Bain bowed too, as his father rose to match his son.

 

“Well.” Dis’s eyes were dancing, Fili knew it. “Where shall we begin? We have brought gifts; hunted in the forest by a Prince of Erebor and our Captain. Fresh meats, ready for skinning.”

 

There was another murmur and King Bard’s eyebrows moved a little, “That is kind, thank you.”

 

“It’s outside on a wagon, please, take it when you will. A feast tonight perhaps? To celebrate this meeting?”

 

Dis knew how to lead and King Bard didn’t seem upset by her presumptions though some of his council did. King Bard ignored them.

 

“An idea. But we’ve a lot of talk about. This way.”

 

He led the party past his council, who were clearly trying to tell him things with their expressions, and out of the hall to a large room with doors wide open to the outside, where there were seats on stone stabs that caught the sun. It wasn’t a well furnished or prettily done room but it would suit the Dwarves. It was well chosen.

 

When Sigrid walked, her cape touched the floor. She glanced at Fili and he glanced at her and they both smiled, like they had a secret. Only they didn’t. Kili nudged him.

 

Balin sat down gratefully, “Ah, my old bones thank you, Your Highness. I trust a trade agreement can be reached today?”

 

“If it’s equal.”

 

Whatever was going to be said next was interrupted by Tilda bursting out with, “Why do you have a beard?”

 

“Tilda.”

 

King Bard’s voice was stern but Dis laughed and beckoned Tilda forward, “Why do you have none?”

 

Tilda scrunched up her face, “Because I’m a girl.”

 

“Because Daughters of Men grow no beards but all Dwarves do.”

 

“Except Kili,” Fili couldn’t resist adding with a grin, “He’s not old enough.”

 

“Oi!”

 

Tilda studied Dis. “Will Sigrid have to grow a beard when she marries Fili?”

 

There was a snort of laughter from Bain and even King Bard wore something close to a smile. Sigrid shook her head, not upset, and Dis laughed loudest of anyone before directing her gaze towards Sigrid.

 

“Now I’m sure she’s pretty enough. She has hair enough for decoration.”

 

Sigrid wore her hair up, all tied back. Practical for hard work in Dale. Fili wondered what she’d look like with her hair down.

 

*

 

There was serious talk of fish and meat and how the trade agreement would work. Sigrid wrote things down and nodded at certain words her father emphasised and mentioned the extra food needed as everyone continued to work hard on rebuilding. Dis and Fili and King Bard were able to talk easily, though King Bard was defensive and tense and wanted equality for his people, despite how his people's state compared to the Dwarves'.

 

 

“We’re not to be stepped on or stepped over,” he stated, years in his voice. “This is for my children and their children and all the children in Dale to come.”

 

Balin stepped in when he felt a spark was too great and eventually the conversation wound down. Tilda had been allowed to talk with Tauriel, touching the beads in Tauriel’s hair and her bow and the hilts of her swords. Tauriel showed no sign of minding. She really had formed a bond with the children during her time in Dale.

 

When the talks ended, Kili stood up and grinned over at Tilda, “I hear there’s a princess that wants to learn the bow.”

 

Tilda cheered, “Yes, yes, please! There’s a place away for learning weapons, Da says it’s so no one hurts practicing.”

 

“Very wise,” Tauriel replied, nodding to Bard who nodded at something that wasn’t being said. “And to learn the bow, you will learn from an Elf.”

 

Kili made a rude noise but he was grinning, “I shoot as well as you.”

 

Tauriel’s expression was all amusement. Bain was looking at Tauriel’s swords and she smiled at him, “You have been learning?”

 

Bain nodded, “Every day.”

 

“Good. I will lead your lesson today.”

 

Bain looked at his father who nodded and all four trooped out of the open doors to the streets beyond. Fili listened to their bright happy talk gaining distance and found himself looking back at Sigrid who wore an expression like she had been listening too. She was glad of her siblings’ happiness, as he was glad of Kili’s. Dis had obviously noticed.

 

“And now we reach the betrothal.”

 

Fili stood up quickly, this was where they parted. “Sigrid and I will talk and join you later.”

 

Dis smiled quite contentedly and nodded, “A fine idea.”

 

King Bard’s eyebrows drew together but Sigrid bent close to talk quietly to him and though he didn’t look happy, he nodded and squeezed her hand.

 

“There is room outside for you and Men on guard.”

 

A warning or a reassurance? Fili bowed and swept an arm wide for Sigrid to lead the way. Balin was smiling in a way that made him look a lot like Dwalin.

 

Outside, Sigrid lead Fili to a low stone wall, far enough from the doors so they wouldn’t be heard. She sat down, adjusting her cape so that it only fell over one shoulder. Its colours were like earth and water. Fili sat close to her, though no part of them touched, and thought about what to say. What might he write if he weren’t there, if he was thinking about her without her face in front of him?

 

“So Princess Sigrid...” he kept his tone light and teasing. “I could gift Tilda a trumpet as part of the betrothal.”

 

Sigrid’s eyes went wide with amusement, “And a bow? She’ll want both.”

 

“Oh no, a sword for a Dwarven maid.”

 

“A sword and a trumpet. Her enemies would run at the sound of her.”

 

Their heads were bending closer in confidence. Fili didn’t draw back. “Kili tried playing pipes and drums in younger days. Our Uncle threatened to break the pipe. Bofur stole the drums.”

 

Sigrid laughed, making Fili grin. The sound suited her and he could see, now that they were still, how worn her hands were from work. She still carried many worries; he wondered how much he’d added to them.

 

“Our peoples can ally without a betrothal,” he told her quiet and firm. “It’s not...necessary.”

 

Sigrid nodded slowly, “But it would help.”

 

“On both sides. It’s going to be a long journey, to grow trust and belief but we’ll need it.”

 

Because there would be more, Gandalf had been sure of it, more Orcs. And there would be people coming to try and claim gold from the Mountain and would tromp through Dale to do so. There would be hardship amongst the happiness that filled the Mountain.

 

“And I’d like to,” Fili said just as firmly as his tone before. “I said before, I like our beginning and I’d like more.”

 

Sigrid’s fingers twitched again, her mouth holding a sweet kind of smile, and her gaze swept away from him but didn’t avert for long. The strength in her, Fili admired that. After all she’d been through, all she’d lost, all the ways her life had changed now, all the worries she still carried; she sat talking to a Dwarf, about marriage.

 

“What would be expected, in the Mountain?”

 

Fili hitched a foot up under his thigh. It was a fair question, what did Sigrid know of Dwarves anyway? What had Uncle Thorin’s Company shown her but war and betrayal?

 

“What have you heard?” he asked with light teasing again.

 

Sigrid’s tone was almost as light, “I’ve been told by old men and young that I’ll be carried off into the Mountain and my family will never see me again.”

 

“If that were true, your father would tear the Mountain down to get to you,” Fili replied with a laugh, though he was not surprised. He remembered burning echoes of his father’s anger at how some Men treated and thought of Dwarves and always would. “It’s all a choice – you coming into the Mountain, being its Queen one day. And your family remains here, for you to visit and them to visit us.”

 

Sigrid nodded, her throat working, “I wouldn’t have to be a warrior, like your mother?”

 

“Dwarves **are** warriors, there's no other way for us. Some will have a duty to protect you and I before all else. But we’re miners too, musicians, poets, weavers, cooks, all manners, as you and yours are. You wouldn’t have nothing to attend to.”

 

“There would be duties?”

 

“Some festivals and meetings, a bit of dancing maybe. I’d teach you, I’d be there too. I’d rely on you for advice and clear thinking, like I rely on Kili and our mother. Your word would hold weight, especially once we got to know each other more. There’s always something to do.”

 

Sigrid smiled a little. “Someone with a problem that needs sorting or a letter to send.”

 

Fili smiled back, “Aye, there’s always letters to send.”

 

Sigrid’s smile turned warmer before her gaze firmed up with resolution, as though she was bracing herself too, “I’d be expected to have children.”

 

Fili nodded, something in him lighting up at the thought of children, all too rare among Dwarves since the first fall of Erebor. He wondered suddenly what any children of himself and Sigrid would look like.

 

“It’s why my council is so set on me marrying. Without me and Kili, the Durin line would have stopped with Uncle, had he died then in battle,” he paused and then continued, maybe these weren’t things Men discussed openly, Fili didn’t know, but he could sense how it was on Sigrid’s mind and she deserved to know of it. Better now than his council being the first to talk about it with her. “I’ve spoken to Oin, he says you should be able to bear a child of mine. It could be difficult, more painful for you but it’s possible.”

 

Sigrid took in his words, concentrating on her hands for a little while. If she reddened at all, Fili didn’t push her and he didn’t ask about any previous intimacies. Many Dwarves would insist on it, especially as he was the Crown Prince. He knew that at least three or so members of his council would ask it when they next all met. To know what his Queen had done and with who and what it might mean – to them, it was expected. To know everything before enemies did, to know what to expect for heirs, to smelt out all impurities. But Sigrid had given enough already. This sort of thing, this sort of future, it’d been set for Fili since birth and he hadn’t ever thought of another. Sigrid was still growing used to royal blood.

 

Her hair was quite fair under the sun. He would make her beautiful betrothal beads that would suit it, in colours like her cloak – earth and water.

 

“How long would a betrothal last?” Sigrid asked.

 

“Traditionally, a year. Could be longer, given what Dale needs,” Fili replied. “But if it’s too long, some will start asking if a wedding is intended at all.”

 

Sigrid stayed quiet for a moment, her thoughts close. Fili found himself hoping, silently, as privately as Sigrid was thinking. He had meant it before – he thought they could have a strong partnership, a good one, for Erebor and hopefully for each other. Sigrid seemed to take a breath, as though she’d made a decision and almost like she was pleased.

 

“I would...I would like to accept your betrothal.”

 

Fili smiled broadly, with relief and a quiet real pleasure. They weren’t Kili and Tauriel – struck by love. But they did share a bond of friendship and it would serve them and the Mountain well as husband and wife. And it could grow. He was, Fili found, looking forward to it.

 

“It seems daft to say but thank you, I’m...I don’t know how to describe it except in gladness. Thank you.”

 

Sigrid smiled too, a little bashful but with a hint of the quiet pleasure that Fili was feeling, until she tilted her head, “Is that the dragon claw?”

 

Fili caught hold of the correct braid and held it up for her inspection. “Many a Dwarf is looking forward to wearing one themselves.”

 

Sigrid drew something out of her dress pocket and revealed a dragon tooth. “There’s plenty saved for you.”

 

Fili smiled and dipped his head, plucking the tooth from her palm and extracting a fastening from his hair for it. In his experienced hands, it didn't take long to fix. He had an idea; it was only right now.

 

“Would you secure for me, in a braid?”

 

Sigrid’s smile curled at the edges and she nodded, shuffling a little closer and taking the clasped tooth from him. “Should it be in any certain braid or-?”

 

“Not the one with the green stone.”

 

Sigrid’s hands were sure and deft, attaching the tooth without much hesitation. She must have taken care of her own hair for years and most likely Tilda’s too. She was so close now Fili could feel her breath and hear loudly the rustle of her cloak. He suddenly hoped she’d wear a cloak at their wedding.

 

“Will I wear beads and gemstones and teeth?” Sigrid wanted to know.

 

Fili nodded, turning to look at her. “I’ll braid them all in for you – a braid for our betrothal, then our wedding, for any children, for your link to the line of Durin. There should be one for your family too. I’ll make beads and settings for gems for you to wear.”

 

Sigrid seemed to follow the thinking packed between his words, “Only you?”

 

Fili nodded, his hair almost touching her, “Only me.”

 

They were silent again and Sigrid’s hand, Fili realised, was still curled in his hair.

 

“Tilda will want braids too,” Sigrid said at last, quietly.

 

Fili laughed, “Braids for a Princess of Dale and friend of the Mountain.”

 

At last he tapped a finger to her free hand and wrapped his fingers around hers. He could feel the rough spots, the stories she had told him and still had to tell. A few of his would likely match – a lost parent, at least one younger sibling, responsibility, expectation. Her hand was cool despite the sun.

 

He bent and kissed the back of it. He felt the intake of Sigrid’s breath. Neither of them moved any closer. Their betrothal was still being discussed not very far away and somewhere their siblings were shooting arrows and swinging swords together. Sigrid’s hand squeezed his.

 

“It’s your turn to write."

 

Fili laughed so gladly. “It is.”

 

_-the end_


End file.
